Scorned
by Ice-Chalis
Summary: Seisen. A man raised by the frightened spirits of the forest. Harboring deep hatred for his family he himself doesn't know why, he slowly comes to realization: He is not the person he thought he was. Eventual Hawk/Arthur.
1. Prologue

**Scorned**

**By: **Ice-Chalis

* * *

_From the day I came back home, after climbing snow apple trees all day, I've have felt a void in me. One that no matter what emotion I tried to fill it with, it would always come back as the same thing._

_It happened when I was four._

_I vaguely remember the smell of jam. A warmth when it was snowing, wrapped around my shoulders, slowly falling to the white powder covered ground. A few apples softly landing bullseye. I was careful with them, as they bruised easily..._

* * *

_I had that weird dream again..._

The boy picked another fruit, looking down to see where to drop it without hurting the others already at the bottom. It landed precisely where he wanted it.

_The stars were falling, and I think mom was crying._

He was satisfied with the amount he had gotten. And it wasn't right to take all the apples for himself. He tried jumping down but hurt the side of his leg. Wincing, he got up. It didn't hurt too bad, in fact he was still able to stand up right.

_I hate that dream._

Forgetting his way home, again, he looked around for a 'short-cut'. The sky was creamy peach, clouds just barely there fading in the color. White doves flying away at the snap of a twig, swaying the light blue leaves back and forth. It was breath taking, exactly why he came here. To get lost.

To lose all train in thought.

Yes, he was far too young to understand the pain and strife of the world, but to a pure hearted child as he, this was as good as the imagination, the one most adults lose, could take in and appreciate instead of just looking past it all and think of nothing but the tomorrow they rather not see.

At the very least, he didn't think of any suffering. Not even his leg, the dream, or even...

'Azel.'

The boy's nearly clear violet iris narrowed. His lips did not part, just trembled.

'Azel, what's wrong?'

Standing across him were two persons. Both men, one with red hair, under a beautifully designed cloak, the other, a taller blue haired one, under a leather coat. Their eyes could not be seen, but their voices, perfectly clear. His heartbeat picked up speed.

'I'm fine, Lex...'

'I know. The kid's fine, and Tilt's gonna make it, now you know.'

'Comforting words, indeed. . . Lis... n . . I . . .'

The figures went away, blurry and impossible to understand. A blue jay flew in the boy's direction, taking him back to reality.

He lay on the ground, leg healed without so much as a bruise. His apples however were scattered on the snow covered ground. Not one of them harmed as well. If it wasn't for the foul odor of smoke, he wouldn't have moved or even twitched.

It was indeed a putrid smell, it was impossible to take in a breath without taking in some of the smoke as well. Covering his nose with his shirt, not effective but better then head on, he only picked the blanket off the ground, leaving the fruits from his little climbing adventure where they were.

He ran through the patterns of light blue forest, no longer aimlessly getting lost, and though he wasn't looking in any other direction--his eyes looking right through the path, his eyes with the same scared emotion as with the spirits of the forest--not a single root or branch dared to come his way.

The blanket fell. The odor as strong as wind blowing against the smog. His eyes watered, not of tears but of the stinging heat attacking his eyes.

The small cottage he's lived all his life, with his mother and younger sister, waiting for something, whether it was a beloved or something so simple as death, it was still called home--it was burning.

He rushed inside, not knowing exactly what he was looking for. He tripped over an old book lying around. A fire tome. Had it been this that started all of this? He carefully placed his hand on it, just as he did he heard a crack above him. As the pillars of the small cottage gave out, the boy felt compelled to protect that which might have even caused this atrocity.

He held his breath, and for the life of him could not move a muscle. As he closed his eyes, a light flew by.

* * *

When he woke, a small blue bird flew away from his head. He was surrounded by nothing but snow, as for his clothes tattered with burn marks and holes. He still held the fire tome--his sight had not failed him after all.

His emotions faded into snow behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** Uh... Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War fanfic... doubt you ever heard of it.


	2. The Curtains Begin To Rise

**Scorned**

**By: **Ice-Chalis

* * *

"You never talk about yourself, you know?" Golden hoops were administered into the young woman's ears. "Lighten uh-- OW!!"

"Be still."

"You did that on purpose!"

"And if I did?"

Emerald eyes glared that the man piercing holes in her ears. It _was_ her idea, though. They've known each other for only thirteen days. The girl was a vagabond, her mother had succumbed to the same illness as the queen-- oddly enough around the same time.

"There. Idiot, I'm talking to you."

"They're heavy."

"You picked them out."

She laughed, "So I did!"

At first meeting, the man confused her for a different girl, although she was glad he confused her for a _girl_.

Phee was this one's name.

"Hey, Artie, why do you need to go to Manster anyway?"

"And what about yourself?"

"Hmph... FINE. Geeze, you're so... So boring!"

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

Sarcastic, unruly, and somewhat of a sadist is what she thought of him. That's why they got along so well--although, however well they got along, neither was willing to tell the other about their self. Phee would ask away without ever expecting him to turn to her. She turned it into a game. If he would react in any way to the questions he would have to answer. And she would get a prize of course. She chose to get piercings. For both of them.

Phee stood up, uncomfortable with the giant hoops that greatly contrasted her green bobbish hair. "Alrighty Mr. Boor, pick yours," She handed him three single ear pieces. "This is so we can match haha! I know you don't like it by the look on your face, alright next one!" She placed the golden rhombus down.

"There's no way in all hell I'm wearing _that_." Arthur scoffed at the sapphire she threw at him.

"Aww, and I was hoping you'd like it." She laughed and picked up the fine sheet of silver, "This one _will_ hurt you know?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh, and you can't try to hide it with your hair either." She grinned while slitting his ear. After a while she reached for a towel to soak up the blood. She wasn't aware because he never said anything but the moment to push his hair aside to dry the deep red liquid, his hand reached to his neck as if to cover something. He felt the fabric of his clothing covering the flesh underneath. He did it so suddenly blood dripped and in turn circling his arm. Phee could always tell there was some sort of secret he hid away. Then again, so did she. There was a silence, "Well then..." she began, "I won the bet, didn't I? This whole piercing charade... and an answer."

The man sighed deeply, "I'm looking for family; Yes, you could say that."

"Blood related or no?" She wiped the blood from his arm and then continued bending the small sheet until it hugged the lobe.

"Perhaps."

"Yeah... I'm looking for someone too." She cleaned her hands with a glass of water, then cleaned his ear.

"This is where we part ways." He stood, "Anyway, thanks for the company, but I've never been the social type."

"Hm... Prefer traveling alone, eh? We might be headed the same ways." _Don't go. I don't want to be alone again..._

He stood by the door as a silhouette. The brightest day of the Silesian lands were in for the dark ages. Their King, misplaced. It's Queen, dead. Her children, runaways. Her people suffered, wondering, would the Empire take them in? Even after the resent they showed the first five years? Who would take charge of this barren wasteland? Come back, our king. Come back.

"You know of the Pegasus, right?"

* * *

_Isaac...

* * *

_

The old woman begged the prince to stay. By her side were those who called her 'mother'. A seragent mother she was to these men and women; among them, her biological daughter as well.

"Lady Eddin, please! I must have some closure of my family-!"

"No! Oifaye has already gone lengths far west and hasn't come back! And if they are then just send an escort to lead them to Yeid, I will have none of my children at a disadvantage if you're to be away!"

"You don't understand!!"

"My lady, it is alright." Another voice within the crowd of her 'children' spoke up. This had gone on since the spies working under Isaac's hidden prince had reported a new rule in Yied. The Lopt Sect.

"No! No, it is not alright!! Do you remember the last time _both_ Shannan and Oifaye were away?!" Once known as the elegant and graceful princess of Jungby. Scarred from the fateful event eighteen years past. She became overprotective, not the unusual within the parental figures of the children, but overly emotional ever more the night her own daughter faced death through her own reflection of a blade. Her comment of the protectors being away brought up unnecessary depression unto Lana and Lakche. "You only barely managed to keep them out of harm's way!"

"Lady Eddin... that was a horrific night indeed, but we are older, wiser--"

"Older, yes! Wiser, possibly! But none the more capable of surviving on one's own!" She turned away from the young lord, and then glared at his personal guardian. "Shannan!! You promised _her_, didn't you?! That you would watch over Celice no matter what and never leave his side, didn't you?!"

The one promise Shannan thought would for all certainty send him to his grave. And if he could keep it, he would be glad it would be the death of him. He turned to him.

"Lord Celice... please, I, I need to do this..."

"I understand." Celice took Eddin's hand, "It will be alright, I can take care of myself."

The elder woman cursed loudly, sobbing all the while. Lana tried going near her, but she pushed all away. She eventually calmed and asked for the princes' forgiveness, then pulled away to apologize with the older prince. Before his departure, Shannan spoke to Skasaha alone. It consisted of confusion and terror, and by the end of it neither of them was sure of what would be. For all's sake, it was the beginning of the dark war.

_Entrusted: Skasaha_

That night I hit him harder than ever before. I was ruthless; he never had a chance to attack. Even after I had struck blows that drew blood, I still hit him hard, sometimes in the same spot. I stopped using wooden swords a long time ago, the blades I use were left by my father (strangely enough, he was a ranged fighter so he never did wield a sword). The fact that he kept a defensive pose from the very beginning showed me what he was. A saint. Shannan was right; I could never try to hurt him. But unless it was for his own good, I could. Damn it, Celice... you make this so much harder on me.

"Ah!! Hold on!" I watched him fall; he took a blow to the back while he was trying regain his feet.

"He's bleeding! Stop it!" Lana helped him stand, but he refused her help.

"N, no, please continue!" He pushed her away, biting his lips to stifle the pain surging through him. I've always had a feeling she liked him, but for any of us to have a normal relationship... no, that would be impossible. He had grown ever more distant with us in the past few years and for a good reason too. We are here to protect him from all harm. Lana has still yet to learn that.

However, I will continue to spar with him in this way. The girls don't understand, Lana keeps healing his wounds as soon as they open. How is the one who will lead us supposed to be dependent on a staff wielder every little cut they get? I can think of many reasons this could slow us down. Time, expenses, unnecessary risks... And he has to let his body heal himself to get used to pain as well.

As for Lakche, she's been silent. I don't know why or when she started, she just closed herself off from speaking with almost everyone, but her skills have improved tremendously. Am I wrong for not doing anything about it? It's not necessarily a problem, is it?

Celice... He's so effeminate; sometimes I don't think he's a man. Blood, tears, and perspiration. It's when these things are drawn out into fighting then do I think of him as my leader. Because of his years of perfecting his personal skills combined with his speed, he can't be caught off guard. This means I have to train even harder than he. But he tries his body to the absolute limits, I forget myself to look at his physic when we spar like this. He doesn't stop until he passes out. He is strong willed.

"AH..AAH!!"

It hurts me when he screams. Did I go too far?

"His arm's muscle's been torn! Skasaha!! What the hell have you done?!"

I can't look at Lana, I only see Celice closing his eyes. He passed out. Again.

At least this time it isn't that serious.

I know that they do not approve of my way of training him, it is dangerous after all... but I need him... no, _WE_ need him to grow strong.

And one other thing. Another reason why I try for him.

He is my lord and my friend. A long time ago when Lana and my sister were kidnapped, he gave me his word he would train night and day so that he could protect all of us. I want to believe him. I do believe him. I trust he can keep that promise, because Shannan also said another thing... a horrible thing.

_"Because if by then he is not able to, I will die for him. After it happens, tell him I was sorry and then; take my place. As his guardian, as well as the king of Isaac."_

Prince Shannan... Just what did Lady Eddin say to you?!

* * *

_Silesia...

* * *

_Violate eyes scanning the dark lit room, he moved his arms and felt a piece of paper. He turned to it, not bothering to sit up right. There was writing on it. At the sound of the door opening, he asked into the darkness that came to him.

"Uh! Arthur, you're awake!! I mean, h, hey! I was just gonna, uhh..." A woman's nervous stuttering answered back.

"Oh. It's just you." The man turned to his side and tried to catch some shut-eye, feeling something crumple as he turned.

"_Just_ me?? Oh, _you_," She wondered if he had time to read her letter while trying to leave. If she could just somehow get it before he could-- "You, uh, wha--?"

He was trying to make sense of the once folded paper on his bed. "So, anyway, what are you doing in here?" He asked casually while looking at the sole window. The sky bled.

"Uh... You know, I was a little scared when I was writing that... I mean, who wouldn't, right? Stealing a Pegasus, the rarest of creatures in Jugdral! Only about a hundred of them exist anymore since that battle that happened here a few decades ago. The penalty for stealing one of those is death! I mean, was I wrong to be frightened?! I meant every word on there! You're crazy!" She then sighed, glancing at his face of what expression he held. It was blank. "But... I have someone to find too... So, I guess... I'll do it." She gulped.

Silence. Cicadas were the only sound penetrating the dark void. A long time ago there wouldn't be any of the summer bugs in Silesia, but the once beautiful country had suffered many hardships to get to this point. The point of no return.

"Hey, Phee," He said at last. The woman stiffened. "What are these things?" He pointed to her writing.

"Oh you jerk!!" She walked up to him and punched the side of his head. "My writing is perfect! Don't you dare say you can't read it!! I wasn't drilled every day by my teacher just so some country boy can tell me--...Wait, my writing _is_ perfect... Hey... you... can't read, can you? B, but you read your tomes as if they were..." She flipped through his tomes on the night stand, "What language is this?!"

Arthur stared at her like she was some sort of madwoman. Hitting him and now yelling at him--and she called him crazy.

"That is written in runes. It isn't a tome." He said while taking it away from her.

She looked at him oddly and then to the book, "Runes? The language of the gods?" She started to laugh, "You _are_ a strange one!"

"Strange?" Arthur repeated.

"Well, no one knows how rune script even looks like. It's just one line in the documents of the Holy War."

He thought it strange as well. Rune speak was his first language; how did that come to be? It had been hard to remember anything recently. His visions from once passed had slowly seized to appear; his only insight was that of dreams. "Vos es insolitus unus." He said, letting out a small laugh.

"Wh, what did you just say?"

"Nihil." He smiled getting up, "Promptus praecessi?"

"Ugh! Speak my language you oaf!!"

"Oh," He had forgotten he was still speaking his tongue, "Sorry about that. I said, 'Ready to go?'"

Phee grinned, "Just where we would get a Pegasus anyway?"

Arthur gave her a small hint he was on to her, "I'm sure you know, Lady Phee."

The young woman was horrified, "Y, you have it all wrong!!" He couldn't! She didn't tell him anything about herself!

"Relax," He held a hand up, "I don't care who you are. I just need to go south, just like you." To be perfectly honest, he didn't know anything about her. He assumed all Silesian women were knights.

"Hah...hah... jerk..."

They left the inn they stayed in. Arthur had already known where to hijack one of the mythical beasts...

* * *

Far from the capital, they stood in the dukedom where a madman once ruled. This is also where the last of the Pegasus would be.

"Here it is." Phee flipped another page spotting the unidentified markings at the top. "This, this! What does it say?" She held the torch over it so they could see.

"Hm?" Arthur placed his fingers over the ancient language. The language of the gods... or so she said. "_'Inter humanus a deus mos orior oriri ortus. Is deus mos defaeco constupro.'_ ... There's no mistaking it, these are runes." Besides those, he couldn't read a single word of the common man. The other characters surrounding this Elden text was illegible to him. He also wondered why Phee was still staring at him. "What?"

"What do you mean, 'what?' Are you going to translate it or not?!" To think, her--Phee--of all people would be the first to finally decipher the text that was unknown to all mankind! The language of the gods.

"Hm... must have slipped my mind." Phee put her palms to her face but just before she was ready to scream out of frustration he spoke again, "I'll tell you after we get to Isaac. At the very least, okay?"

And then she remembered, "Isaac? ...Isaac! I heard a rumor last night at the inn about the hidden princes being there!" She was more energetic now, or has she always been that way? He didn't remember. "I thought I had just missed the Liberation Army, though... Oh-KAY!!" She climbed over the fence and jumped down, "Thievery is not my thing, remember that!!" She said in a loud whisper.

No moon shone on that night, so it was actually possible to get by undetected. Arthur had to make sure of that. He was lucky to have found her before the next moon cycle. Wind picked up, blowing the flame out of his torch. He moved his left palm over the recently died flame and abandoned the idea. It would be a waste of energy, and without a medium it would only drain him.

He waited, noticing the area around him becoming disorientated. He turned to the mountains; no matter what time period, surely they would stand forever. Even more shocking than if weren't there, it was. Covered in snow at that. He laughed quietly to himself wondering if he really had gone mad this time. Or had he been mad before this? He couldn't remember.

'Mahnya!!'

The shriek of a woman's voice just now... It was similar to Phee's. Arthur turned, was she in trouble? But then who-

Looking at the sky, he stood frozen. The sky was lighter; radiance came off the figures, one quickly heading towards the ground. They were pegasus, every one of them. He inspected closer on the fallen horse, its rider was quickly coming after. If he hadn't known these were spirits, he would have moved away when she fell through him. Her hair fell over her face, she was beautiful, almost resembled Phee, but she had much longer hair and actually had a noble appearance. He saw her armor, strong yet completely broken through. Ten, eleven, twelve arrows had punctured deep through her armor, she was as good as dead. The other woman's voice came from those above. There were many of them, all women, and to the eastern border, knights.

'Protect... the queen...' she tried gasping out the last part of her dying breath but came out short. The only movement in her mouth was almost making an 'f'.

_Phee?_ No, these visions were always dated. She wouldn't speak of Phee because there were no such war pegasus in these lands. He stepped away from her, knowing even these spirits were always territorial, especially if they had that sort of feeling when they died.

He closed his eyes as if to make a bad memory go away. Grass started to spark, and the vegetation surrounding him set ablaze. He fell to his knees, holding his head. The spirits turned to his direction with faces full of sadness. They descended to his level; to think a fleet of them in their warped voices, shrieked and cried.

_Why does no one hear our sorrows? Do you feel it?_

His heart felt as if it caught fire as well, his breathing became hoarse. A sudden burst of heat from his back had him against the ground. The mark again, was it?

_No? Is it your own? This sorrow... How a living can hold so much malice? Perhaps it would be best for you to let go of this world..._

The spirits gave him no mercy. They all wept in a disordered cry, Arthur held his head to the ground, covering his ears. The voices became louder until it was just a high pitch sound that felt like it could break him.

The fire raged, surrounding him, all the while developing a headache that brewed electrons underneath his feet to clash, turning the ash around him into glass. It was broken and remade many times over, each time with a new injury. Glass cut through skin, fire burned his hands and clothes. Another surge of heat from his back, but this was different from the last. He felt it burn though the tunic and at a concentrated heat such as that, burned right through his hair. His breathing could no longer support his body, for the fire consumed that too. The high pitch, though just sound, felt like stings everywhere. A warm fluid ran towards his face. At the interruption at the skip of a heartbeat and an apple by his side; the sound died away, but the ringing in his ears would never cease. He reached an arm to his ear. It was bleeding. In fact he thought he said it aloud, but perhaps for once his body let his mind do the thinking. He gazed a sideways glace to the landscape around him. Ashes lay still, as a mock to the once glorious snow fall that fell to this barren wasteland. Though he was sure he was deaf, he heard a flapping sound overhead. Another apple fell, and landed on his head. A familiar voice grew as seconds passed.

"Ah, Arthur!!"

All light left his vision, iris consuming his eyes; yet it slowed from completely taking over. Radiance from above; he held his wrists to his eyes, sitting upright, letting them adjust to the least possible amount of light. He was disorientated, unable to keep his balance if he tried standing.

"W, what happened here?! Hey, are you hurt?"

The mage felt eyes on him. More specifically, to the center of his back. It was there where it ached, it was there that it burned, and it was there where the feeling would surge to his body and feel like he was being torn apart.

"Are you listening to me? Can you stand? Arthur? Hey, get up..." The woman helped him up but it was as if she was trying to make a corpse stand.

* * *

...

* * *

He was bound by rope to keep him from escaping. The man glared daggers at dark haired swordsman, and then to the blond haired general. The swordsman sighed, side glancing to his superior as if to ask, 'why?'. It was a mystery why this man chased their army down just because of a stupid rumor.

"Sir... I don't like him." The dark haired man moved away from the brute. "He's been eying me ever since we've captured him."

"Most people don't like to lose fights, Rodlevan."

"But Sir... He sneaked up on _me._" He complained.

"I doubt he would be able to keep silent long enough for his movements to go unnoticed by anyone, especially you. Or were you dilly-dallying the whole time? I expect you be more serious about this." The man moved across the room towards the captive's weapons.

"Yes, sir..." Rodlevan sighed again, and then stared at the man before him, still with those eyes. He wore a headband to match the strangely colored green armor he wore, yet it somehow brightened his pale brown hair. Those sepia eyes of his followed every movement the swordsman made. He became annoyed at how that man kept glaring at him. "Sir, I really don't like him."

And the captive had the exact thought, "Oi, you think I wanna be 'ere listening to you complainin' 'bout every little thing I do?"

"Geeze... _This is your interrogation, damn it..._ Who are you and who do you work for?" Unwilling to comply, the other spat at his direction. Rodlevan was glad he moved away from the barbarian. "Ugh... Sir, Tristan is more than capable of dealing with this sort of man." He took another step back, his left arm at a firm grip to his broadsword.

"Relax, Rodlevan. Try to make him talk without resorting to violence."

The brown haired warrior sneered. How he mistook that blasted swordsman for the one that captivated his heart and left Isaac three years ago was beyond him. He did see a resemblance, however. If they had met under different circumstances rather than one of his men thinking they were being attacked by the way things were going currently in Agusty, he would have asked about his Radney. What a fool he was made when he tried acting like his older brother after not seeing her for so long... Not only was it mistaken identity, but to a man! He might as well never show his face ever again, which to him seemed befitting seeing as he was captured by these ruffians who were the talk of the western continent. "Liberation, my ass..." He grumbled and was consequently smacked.

It was Rodlevan's turn to glare at him, only his were menacing. "Don't..." He raised his voice, "Don't you dare speak as if you know anything!!"

"Rodlevan. That's enough." Pale blue eyes fixated on his body movement. These children among his group were raised by who ever came along and felt sorry for them. Few unimportant values were taught to them, all of them only truly learned after experience. The swordsman turned around, as if he thought he could take his general on as well.

"No! I can't stand him, or stand for you taking this! What have we been doing all this time if everyone thinks _we're_ the bad guys?!"

"It's not what others think; it's what our outcome will be. Do _you_ think what we're doing is wrong?"

"If I honestly thought that, then the past years of my life had been for naught."

"Do you think that?" He said sternly wanting an actual answer.

"N, no, Sir." He had already sworn his life to this cause.

And his sister would have wanted to see to it that they did make everything right someday.

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" He sighed and tried being sympathetic, "Radney did what she thought was right; thanks to her the lives of fifteen children are safe."

"But--" He began but the brute of his dislike lashed out.

"Radney! What of my Radney?!"

At last the swordsman with the sad dark eyes recognized him. Many memories came to mind. He remembered him and that brother of his, playing with the rest of the Isaacian children before the child hunts went into play a decade ago. He used to secretly still visit rural villages such his own and help fend off barbarians that came to collect 'taxes' far out of their price from the tyrannous rule of Dannan; By then a deep hatred for the Dozel family had formed so he came around less and less. Still, though his language was... colorful, he wasn't hated because of his blood. Everyone could tell him and his brother apart from that family, though being from the same family, they had kindness and shared it to make Isaac less of the hell it was.

"Johalvier." Rodlevan said at last, "Johalvier of Dozel is this man's name." He looked back to his superior.

"H, hey! How'd the hell would you...?!" Began Johalvier in broken sentences, "And my Radney, who are you to even speak her name!"

Ignoring him for the moment, he spoke to his general still, "Sir Maira, this man is no threat to us. In fact, I ask that he join us. He would have no choice seeing as he would have done anything for my sister." He then asked permission to untie him. Johalvier gave an 'hmph' as if he could let himself free if he really wanted to. Once more did he ask for Radney, and Rodlevan though as much that at least he deserved an explanation. He let out a heavy sigh but before speaking, a knock at the door.

"Sir Maira, a representative of the Isaacian Liberation Army is here to speak with you. Oh, Johalvier, is that you? It's me, Mana." A girl with shoulder length black hair introduced herself to him. Her new white bishop attire flowed around her even though there were no windows for air circulation. She wanted to smile to brighten the dusty scarlet brick walls, but she found it hard to force herself of something she couldn't do, so she did so to Rodlevon, "It's Sir Oifaye. He grew a mustache." Maira took no effort to leave as fast as he could, and Mana followed behind. She wanted to check again if his facial hair was still there.

Rodlevan laughed at the thought of Oifaye, of all people, with a mustache. It was comical, how a man such as he thought they looked good. Of course this could have been because the prince of Isaac had once said jokingly out loud to everyone throughout Tilnagogue that they were the essence of manliness. That Oifaye always believed anything Prince Shannan said.

"Liberation from my old man, eh? I can only imagine why..." Johalvier grumbled.

"Oh?" Rodlevan tried to distance himself from Isaac. It always wanted him back, but he refused to listen to earth. The crusader Odo had once left his homeland in search of something better than the oppression he dealt with, and it lead to the temporary solution to the holy war. Did he go just to make a name for himself? No. He was righteous, and though even his family called him a traitor. Odo never stopped even to explain himself. He just wanted to see if the rest of the world was in agreement with the way people of the lower castes we treated: If not, he would go back home and start a revolution against it. If so, he would fight till the end in hope that others feel the same way. From there it took off. The documents of the holy war said that Odo had then met with Baldo and the siblings Noba and Dain. But because he only had Radney at the time and she was the one who wanted to follow in the Isaacian Founder's foot place, he felt compelled to follow the journey as well. Radney...

"So, you're her brother..." The other sneered afterwards, making fun of himself, "You don't look alike at all!" But Johalvier could tell his effort to make him talk was in vain. "Look, if you know something about Ra--" He was left in silence when Rodlevan glared at him with those same sad yet vicious eyes of his.

"Nine months ago we made it to the Agustrian-Grandbellian boarders after staying in Silesia for a bit. I joined this army in Isaac after its initial forming in Miletos three years ago, I'm sure you know. We've traveled all over, even to Grandbell. Though that was when we were only a small band of people. Silesia is where we really gained allies. That country is beginning to completely collapse on itself, so many rushed to where the last neutral country in the continent was before the officials finally given in to the Empire."

He began with simple things of skirmishes here and there up until the first battle against the Empire. Children were burned as sacrifice to the god Loptous; those of the Lopt Sect were under the command of Arch Bishops Manfloy and Beldo. And the only reason the Lopt Sect had been able to survive was to the thanks of the once peaceful ruler, Emperor Alvis.

"Radney almost threw up when she heard of the child burnings. It was outlawed in Isaac, so we were never used to this kind of heinous crime. I guess that's the only thing your father did right, eh?" He made no effort to even try to turn it into a joke. His stolid face showed he was serious the entire time, and Johalvier took the hint not to comment even though he was about to go along the joke, "As we neared Agustria we met a battalion of knights and dark bishops. They were sent to 'take care' of some rumored terrorists trying to cross the border. Now this rumor grows more and more each day rather than Liberation and so we were feared by civilians more that they did the Lopt Sect. They did nothing to aid us, so it was pointless to gain any new allies in Grandbell. We fought bravely and valiantly while they sent more and more reinforcements, and then in the middle of it, the commander was taken over by someone else. I could only assume that because the direction of the battle began to go in our favor."

Or so it seemed, by the wry look on his face. He continued. "The Lopt Priests were called back to kill two birds and do ritual in a small town nearby. Without the priests, much of the stress against dark magic users was lifted but we didn't stop after most of the battalion had fallen. One of our companions actually saw firsthand what a Child Hunt was like and we didn't want some stupid battle fate the lives of innocent children. Radney had reached the town first, then our general and myself. She faced off with their leader, an Arch Bishop. We didn't know what the leaders of the Lopt Sect looked like and my sister was always the hot headed one... I figured she could take him so I left her alone and helped Sir Maira fend off against armored knights that kept coming and coming. She killed him, yes, but a dark clad man appeared from inside the orphanage. He ordered us all to lay down our weapons but I knew he would never try to bargain our lives just for that. He had the evil look of a man who had killed for the fun of it, and as if he enjoyed Child Hunts. She took him on too, and did some good damage on him, but before she could land the finishing blow he... he casted some strange magic I've never seen or heard of before." He stopped before he could finish noticing tears streaking his face.

At the sight of this, Johalvier bolted up, "She's not... She can't be!!"

Rodlevan inhaled deeply before gaining his composure and calmed the warrior, "She was hit. He fled because of his injuries. The entire battalion fled back to the Empire and we became the first Liberation Army that stood up and knocked down the first, thick, wall of the Empire's rule. Radney is now nothing more than a statue in that city as a commemoration to her bravery and being the first to gravely injure the one we now know as Beldo."

Johalvier stood in deep silence while Rodlevan shifted back and forth in the room. No more words came from either of them. The day was over, and that was the end of it.

A boy in priest clothing over sized for him came in unannounced to call the two for supper. General Maira had important news, and it needed everyone to be there. The two stayed silent even after the news.

The Imperial Prince of Light is close to finishing his training; the fall of the Grandbell Empire was to begin the new world. Hopefully it would be the advent of peace.

* * *

He couldn't believe he could hear things again. But mostly he couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"Worried? About you?! Nonsense! Why would I worry about a complete idiot who passes out over some freaky ear infection?!" She cut his burned hair off. Such a shame, but it would have been much worse to keep it like it was, all silvery violet then a strange orange brown burn... ugh, she didn't want to look at that horrid combination of color again. "Ohoh, and you expect me to believe that you were attacked by ghosts, huh? Lies!" She had also brought him to the city just at the boarder of Silesia and Isaac via pegasus. She had gone through it after all.

"I'm telling you the truth!" He protested against the unnecessary bandages she put on his head and received a hard slap on the back where it hurt the most. He yelped. "Ugh... Hey, you saw it didn't you?" She turned red on cue, but he didn't let her speak, in fact, he was oblivious to her change in shade, "I don't know how long that mark's been there but it caused the fire, I swear!" He looked over the fabrics Phee had bought from the shops. Much of it was a light shade of gray, and the rest a dark green color. They were most likely expensive and from the capital. There would be no such violet grey to come across to be that common. It was a rare dye from the flowers the absolute north of Silesia. He also noticed he had to make his own clothes, seeing as his last were charred.

Phee continued her ramblings, which Arthur chose to ignore, "Not only did everyone freak out about the forests, but they say that just now the pegasus were about to really pick up in population but now... ugh! How could you!" She turned away from him as he got out of his sheets. She hated that side of him that really didn't care about her... he was so selfish! "And another thing!"

"Oh shut-up, will you? I don't want to mess up." He was most likely working on the clothing. "I can't stand women that do nothing but make noise and prattle." He then added, "That's all you people know how to do, isn't it?" He said in an annoyed tone of voice.

She stayed quiet, a little torn between yelling at him and being obedient. She had been alone for a few months after the death of her mother and this was the first person that hadn't shunned her away at first for trying to cross Isaac into Manster. Sure, Phee thought he was strange at first, calling her 'Femina' at first and then apologizing for her that she wasn't her.

_'Oh, sorry, you're not her.'_

She clenched her hands into fists, how dare he apologize for her, it's him who should apologize for jumping to conclusions!

It made her mad that she thought about him about being mad at him; which if she thought correctly, she just loved to make herself mad! Why was she even on that subject? "Oh, it's your entire fault!" She stomped her left foot on the ground.

"So I heard." He said sarcastically. He was thankful she even kept quiet for so long, but he had managed to sew the seams together. He pulled on them to make sure they were sturdy, and bit off the last of the string used to make it. Scissors fell on the floor while he was putting on the tunic, and then put on the sleeveless inefficient jacket on. He noticed he didn't have any pants to go along with this ordeal, nor was there enough fabric to make a pair. He stared at the book case Phee was behind of, rambling some nonsense to herself. Was it on purpose? He didn't care anymore. Isaac and then Miletos... along the way, the seasons would change and the sun would hit the earth... and such heat! He'd rather not think about it, so he went along with it. "Promptus praecessi?"

This time Phee smiled, "Yeah. Manhya's outside; we're ready!"

Arthur couldn't help but to laugh, "You named her Manhya?"

"W, what's so wrong about that?! Oh, what do you know?"

As they left the inn and came near the pegasus, Arthur strayed from it's direction and leaned against the post it was tied to. "Ladies first."

Phee rolled her eyes. So even bumpkins believe in the old wives' tale.

* * *

**A/N: **Now before you freak out that there was a POV switch, that's okay. It was supposed to happen. Throughout this series there are going to be what I call bonus chapters to really understand what some of the more admittedly minor characters feel. But I guess I broke that, looking back at it and all. Oh well.

I didn't feel like going through my entire rune studies again, so I thought Latin would be a good substitute. Please tell me if this is wrong. **PLEASE. **(I am currently self-teaching myself Latin. If any readers are fluent, please point out any and all mistakes I might have done. Thank you)

Oh, you probably already know but though this is more of an epic alternate twist kind of story. (If you're that interested, some hints of the plot are down the forums here, be sure to visit.) Be open minded here, and no matter how likely the things I make up in this series, it would probably be a stretch from what is known and what could have been. Also, I'm bad at settings and will never intend to change this.

Starting the next chapter I think I'll put in character information such as personalities and mini bios; what do you guys think? No? I'm kind of against the idea but it's an idea to say the least. What else was I gonna say...? Oh right. Maira is _NOT _an OC. If you want to guess who he is (it won't take long, I'm guessing) by all means do. I'll say one thing about him though, I fabricated MUCH of his background so later on, don't bother flaming that he isn't like that. I warned you now. Try to guess his real name, and guess from what did 'Maira' come from.


	3. Pour

**Scorned**

**By:** Ice-Chalis

* * *

Her boyish hair flailed around and she could tell there was no way of going through this path. She pulled on the reigns and turned around. Only much later did she discover there was a fault to her majestic creature. Her accomplice claimed he was the only one who could understand it—and once more did she call him a fool. There was no way around it. The poor creature was unable to fly through the heat Isaac had, and because it was never used as a war horse, it had not the slightest how to fly at such altitudes. Phee sighed, as to agree with the idiot mage that she befriended. The knights keeping the pegasi had told her that any of them would be of no use to her. Still, when she met Mahnya, she knew that it could handle anything, considering its lineage; the fowl to the pegasus of her dear departed aunt, the highest ranked holy knight of Silesia.

There was a slight catch into training an inexperienced pegasi in the middle of spring. They required tests of speed and endurance under freezing conditions and there would be only one place to go. Mt. Elwin.

What's more, they had to avoid the eyes of the public. Within each of the two a different thought; Phee had run away after her mother's death to bring more than just hell to her brother if he breathed still, and was considered a traitor within her own country. Arthur was unfavorably famous in a village just below the mountains they were to visit, and he was also well known in other areas as the 'traveling hermit'—a rather catchy title that had been brought up a year ago because of his anti-social appearance throughout Silesia.

Once more, they did nothing but bicker back and forth while hiding a two thousand pound pegasus away, heading towards the mountains by foot. Phee carried a heavy Wyvern hide bag slung over her back holding much of her armor. She had been hiding it from Arthur to make sure he didn't ask any questions about who she was, but when he said he knew (or so she thought he knew), she became much more open about herself, though violet attired man didn't care for the trivial matters of people, so he never questioned her about any thing; not of how she knew how to ride a pegasus, not of how why she named it 'Mahnya' and most certainly not of how she had knowledge of altitudes capable for an untrained pegasi—not a thing. She, however, pestered him until she thought he was annoyed. He wasn't a bad guy, but he was impossible to deal with when he made up stories that he was attacked by spirits one way or another. She never forgave him about the forest incident either.

An empty road they traveled through, once known as a huge trading center between the capital kingdom and the villages on the other side. Arthur felt the presence of many spirits here who felt fear trying to escape a dark force following them. His eyes followed the direction of the wind back and forth, sometimes glancing back to Phee. Could she not hear them? Was she unable to see them? Why was it only ever him? He then looked over to Mahnya whom was shifting, came to sudden halts and moved its head to the direction of the spirits. Maybe it was because those creatures were so keen and aware of feeling. The young woman patted the cloak covering Mahnya's wings to calm it down, "Mahnya? What's wrong, babe?"

"It's probably the uneasy presence here. You could show some empathy, y'know?" He slowed his pace noticing they were surrounding him.

"Oh come off it, Arthur," No longer hearing the constant pattern of his footsteps, she turned, "_…_What?"

He paused, thinking, why could this girl not see what he saw; feel what he felt? He shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

She had no idea how lucky she was that she could not see them, could not feel their presence. He hated the pain the spirits shared with him and could tell that they were beginning to harass the pegasus now, too. The green haired lass fell back, caught off guard when Mahnya kicked up and neighing as if it were just struck. There were distinct foot prints on the ground that the mage could see, and they were heading in his direction. It wasn't the fact that Phee couldn't see them that surprised him, but that Arthur couldn't see the person responsible for the foot prints.

The figure was a distorter in the very fabric of the air, multicolored and translucent. It was of small build, female perhaps, but something was odd in the way it was moving—almost as if it were limping. It moved slowly towards him and then lunged. He flinched; noticed by the girl watching him entranced by thin air.

Her eyes widened when a small rock fell as if from nowhere in front of him. From where she fell, she could see it was actually a pendant.

Quickly passing it off as if it where no big deal, he sighed, "Nothing at all."

He left the jade pendant alone and grounded on the spot it fell. There was some sort of tension that not only 'Mahnya' felt but also it's master. Phee glanced at the rock again thinking of how many ill omens she had come across since meeting this man.

Into the night they climbed the jagged younger sister of Mt. Elwin. Ruthless were her cold winds and despite being relatively low in altitude there was a pressure that drained any who dared to cross. Mahnya had trouble climbing continuously and at that point there were two options; climb into Mt. Elwin directly east of them, or cross to the north. The best idea was to rest somewhere for the night, which bothered Phee who rather had risked tripping and falling to her demise than to end up asking Arthur—whom she was sure had a bad temperament by now—what happened back in the abandoned road. She moved her hand to a flat side of the wall of rock and laid her foot firmly on the land below her. Contrasting to her slow climb downwards, Mahnya jumped from ledge to ledge keeping the supplies tied to it perfectly in place. Show off, she grumbled, but still. The pegasi was as graceful as her mother had told her they were, and considering this one's lineage… She was glad she chose this one.

Phee looked around in awe the moment she finally stepped down. The greenery radiated its own mysterious light of light blue into the surrounding, but it was the crunchy topsoil of the land that made her surprised. Snow. Though night had fallen, there was a visible cloud of smoke ahead. "A village!" She turned back to restate her glee to that one, "A village!"

Ignoring her exited jumping and pointing, the light haired mage gave her a look as if it were embarrassed parent to child.

Phee sighed in relief; at least he's in a good mood again. "A girl needs rest." She said giving her final response to his stare. Her body moved on its own, moving towards the dot pattern of the smoke. The air felt somehow warm, or was it just her? Though she hated being in public, there was a different story on this side of the mountains. The kingdom of Silesia was on the other side, no one knew her here. She looked nothing like she once was (she hoped) and 'spiced' up her language a bit to blend in with the common folk. Cutting her hair, which wasn't at all that long to begin with, and joining the ranks of her childhood friends only to leave them again_…_ If it weren't for that damn brother of hers listening to the tales their mother spoke of so_…_ In some ways, Phee thought, did mum really dig her own grave? _No__…__ It's all Sety's fault. Sety and that damned man he chased after!_ She stomped her foot on the ground, getting the satisfaction of the snow's crunch.

Arthur followed her quietly while taking the scenery in before him. Such a strange nostalgia he felt, yet at the same time he felt uneasy. He had been here before, he was sure of it. A feint memory of snow slumbered deep in his subconscious. He couldn't recall that time, nor any other time past five years ago. But he was absolutely sure he remembered this place! The angle of the sister mountain; the strangely green glow from the rocks building up her majestic stature; the cool mixed with humid air. He knew this place.

The girl motioned her mount towards her when she spotted a bridge. It was an old piece of work, but it would be enough to support humans for a few more years. Mahnya was a different story altogether. She spotted Arthur farther behind her taking his time to look around, his eyes full of curiosity for this strange world only parallel to the one they were just from. She took a rope from the bag slung on her back that had kept her armor in order, but it might as well have used a meaningful purpose rather that organization. Looping it several times to avoid strangling Mahnya if she were to move away, she tied around one of the trees nearby rather than the pole connecting to the bridge. Who knows, maybe this one had enough strength to even tear away the pole? She never thought about the might of a pegasus, much less this youth. At last, she gave Mahnya the strangely knotted necklace after careful inspection. Once more she turned to see if the other had caught up to her yet and was caught off guard to find him sitting down on the other side of the tree she had just tied the rope to.

"Tired? C'mon, we only need to walk a bit further." She said, putting her hands on her hips. He nodded slightly, still trying to decipher what his mind was remembering.

He leaned his back against the trunk, putting his hands on his knees, to push himself up. He would get nowhere by just pondering about it. Gaze wondering still—so the thought would not go away, it seemed_…_

"In any case, we should go already. We've been walking for about a week and we ran out of food a while back_…_" She decided not to mention the forgotten sleep of days past spent on climbing. There better be results for my stamina, I don't know how much longer I would have lasted_…_ Damn that Sety, I have to get used to this kind of living? She dropped her head in fatigue. "Artie? You still with me?"

She only managed to get a small hum from him. "Heheh_…_" She looked up at the creak of the bridge. A man?

Arthur pressed his body against the rough bark, feeling heavy, "Let me lie here for a bit."

Phee's sight of the figure slowly faded away distorting the image of where he stood. She was not going to blame ghosts, but rather her mind playing tricks on her. Idiocy rubs off rather quickly. She sighed, noticing an increase of fog coming from her mouth. Was it getting colder?

A crackling noise shot her attention.

Where the mage once sat, the tree had burned ablaze. The white fell mixed with dark, heavier powder, while the lighter colors took on grays. A heavy mist cut off her sight, but she still saw the red glow in front of her.

She ran to her mount, struggling with the knots, calling out to the aloof. Kicking up, Mahnya pulled the rope quickly from under it's master burning her arm sharply. Biting her lower lip deeply to stifle the pain, she began rummaged through her bag quickly for a knife. The mist increased that soon she could only see herself giving the rope a swift cut. Through the pegasus' efforts, it cracked violently like a whip.

Carried off, holding her arm close to her breast, she could vaguely see the figures of two people standing still as the fuzzy glow of flames enveloped them.

A light rain soon drizzled.

* * *

"Is it raining again, Lana?"

A pitter-patter of water cleansing the land, wiping away past regrets.

"Your soup's getting cold_…_"

Regrets she was not willing to let go of.

"I'm sorry_…_ I'm so sorry_…_"

Silence kept her from parting.

Lakche closed the door behind her, holding her breath as she carefully maneuvered around the pink daisies scattered on the floor that the once warm priestess had picked only this morning.

_Disgust: Lakche_

So she was slightly antisocial since the incident, but it had never stopped her from speaking to Lana. She had gone through it too, after all. But something like this…

Making her way out of the main hall, she glanced over to her brother. In front of the imperial prince's room, he sat on the floor looking at the ceiling counting the small holes formed from decaying wood. He had been just as silent as Lana out of respect but, from the moment he came back from market, he and Celice were arguing nonstop. She had wondered why but—

_I don't speak to men._

She shook her head. That's not right, what about Shannan?

_He left and still hasn't come back._

Were we really so weak? The moment the adults stepped out of the room the children became blind. Skasaha, normally the calmest out of all of us has become unstable. Lana—

Lana.

_What can I do?_

It used to be a girl thing; mind reading. One look at the other's face and with a single expression: that's how the day went, right down to what was for lunch. Perhaps it was just that they were too predictable that in the shabby little town of Tinalouge; nothing ever happened. Maybe the so called bond of friendship was nothing more but time and as reliable as an old cloth; on either side, the two girls and their doubts pulled away from each other with insecurities.

_That's wrong!_ They were friends. They are friends. Friends. Sisters.

Lana was always a happy girl. Always smiling. As overbearing and protective as her mother was to all of them.

_"Lakche, look at me!" Tears ran down her face as she shook her friend. "We're getting out of this alive! So don't you dare say anything like that again!"_

_In her confusion, she pushed away. "Don't touch me!"_

_"I don't care what you say, you can't be alone like this now!" again and again, Lana cried with her._

Even with Lana's help that day, Lakche continued keeping to herself. Ashamed by her lonesome. No one could be bothered, and she could stay out of other people's problems. It was easier this way._ I__t's eating me away._ She hated how she was still like this; how even while Lana came out of the ordeal unscathed only for another event to completely tear her down, Lakche herself did nothing to help.

"Lakche. I was right, wasn't I?" The sitting statue spoke, catching Lakche off guard. "It was okay that I_…_"

_When did he__…_

Dark eyes met, their fierce anger shined sadness piercing the darkness they bathed themselves in. The swordsman stood, breaking away of the violent emotions his sister beamed. It was only until he placed his hand on the knob did Lakche turn away. It was an ill omen to speak in silence and then part.

"_SKASAHA!" She screamed as her brother tried to calm her. "SKASHA!"_

_"Lakche, I'm right h, here! I'm…" He held his composer for her sake but couldn't help the sobs between his voice, "…here."_

A soft click of the door left her alone in reality.

"Skasha." She held her tears. Held them for the day he returned.

* * *

A/N: Holy shit.


End file.
